I have constructed my plan of attack for the next ten days or so. It shall go as follows:
- Saturday, March 16: C.K. Williams, Walt Whitman, Allen Ginsberg
It all looks deceptively simple and well-thought-out, doesn't it?
It's really not. It's me trying to come up with some way to tackle a veritable mountain of books, the rest of which I received in the mail this afternoon. I also found that, to my oversight, I did not order a Stephen Crane collection -- and, really, his stuff is very hard to find online in PDF form (as is Auden, actually, for some reason). Therefore I ordered the Library of Congress Crane collection for $3 on Amazon, but since it's a used book, who knows when it'll arrive. Not that I think my director will put a Crane question on the exam, mind you (he's told me more than once how much he hates Crane), but I want to be prepared from all angles, so to speak.
I've already modified this plan somewhat; while I finished my Williams collection this afternoon, Whitman has proved a daunting task. As you folks probably know at this point (as I've repeated it ad nauseam), I cannot stand Walt Whitman. I don't exactly know why, but I can't stand him. I've never liked him. I've tried, over the years -- really I have -- but I really can't grasp him. He's long-winded, boring, very full of himself, and his subject matter is all over the place. I've been told by my director to try to focus on his more important works, such as Song of Myself and Leaves of Grass, so that's what I've done -- and even those are very, very tedious to get through. Song of Myself took me three hours. Leaves of Grass is even more ponderous. I see why he inspires people, I do, and I didn't mind Song of Myself really, but this is just ridiculous. It's now 11:30 PM and I'm trying to slowly work my way through Leaves of Grass. I shouldn't have put Whitman on my reading list. Ever. Ever ever. I'm really at about the point where I want to say "fuck it" and choose the other option if there's a Whitman question on my exam. Again, I see why he's inspirational, but I cannot fathom what people like about his writing. And, of course, if I want to stay on task and not fall behind, I have to read all of Allen Ginsberg's works by the time I go to bed tonight, too.
Already I can't tell you how much I wish this were all over. Every time -- every time -- I have a break from school during the semester, whether that be fall break, spring break, Thanksgiving week, or what-have-you, there's always something that must be done that sucks away all of my time. Always. All of my friends are enjoying their breaks, having fun, celebrating St. Patrick's Day, and I'm chained to my PDFs and books, doing nothing but studying. Already I can tell you that there's not enough hours in the day for everything I have to do over the course of the next ten days, already I can tell you that my relationship with Daisy is going to become strained because I just won't have time to talk to her for hours every day, and already I can tell you that I'm going to go batshit crazy over my break because I don't actually get a break and can't even relax any. Not even right now, not even while I'm writing this -- I'm shirking responsibility right now, I'm wasting time writing here when I should be reading and taking notes, but it's driving me insane. And it's only the first real day of my intense reading-and-studying-for-comps schedule. I can't tell you how much I'd rather be playing a video game, watching a movie, simply dicking around on the internet, or fucking sleeping. But I can't, it's just this. All this. All reading, all studying, no social interaction, no fun, nothing -- not until comps are over and I can relax.
Not to mention that I have no clue when I'm going to work in my students' calculations and midterm grades before Wednesday when they must be posted. Or do my taxes. Or take care of the myriad other things that must be done during this time. I'm already stressed out and frazzled and pissed off at the world. Having to read three or more books a day and retain it all really doesn't help much.
Some of you may be saying "But Brandon, why didn't you do this studying earlier? Space it out more? Order your books earlier, so that you didn't have to 'cram' over spring break?"
That's not how it works for me. I couldn't afford the books until my loan money cleared at the end of January. I've been swamped with student work up until just now, and there's a bunch of it to go. My memory is shot -- three years of grad school not only completely destroyed my love of reading, but it has also burned out my ability to remember anything anymore for any long stretch of time; hence why I had to create a plan of attack in the first place and why I keep multiple to-do lists around the house and at school to remember what I need to do during any given week. Even if I'd had the books over the summer (again, another time when I didn't have any money to buy them) I wouldn't have retained any of the knowledge between then and now. Cramming is really the only studying style that's ever worked for me -- retain the knowledge as long as is necessary, then empty the recycle bin and forget it. I just want to know enough to pass the comps, and then I don't care anymore. I won't have to care anymore. I'll have a month to breathe and focus on myself and my students in the meantime. But these next three weeks or so are going to be very, very stressful, and I'm already feeling its effects.
I've noticed that in the past two days or so, I'm becoming increasingly impatient and frustrated very quickly in my interactions with other people, even Daisy -- Daisy is a sweetheart, she's a saint, she's the woman I'm going to marry, and I find myself getting frustrated and impatient with her. It's not her -- it's not her at all -- it's my stress levels. It's very hard to keep them in check. Very, very hard. This afternoon, at Walmart, I wanted to strangle the people in front of me in line because they were paying for their stuff with at least three different forms of payment -- EBT, cash, check, check card, something along those lines, who knows -- and they kept getting declined on their attempted transactions. I was just there to get cat stuff, coffee, and cigarettes, and had a few other essentials in my cart. I just wanted to be done, and there was a line of at least five other people behind me. I wanted to scream. Normally I'm not this ready to blow my top; I am a very caring, understanding, and compassionate person. But I secretly, internally, wanted to scream and beat them all about their heads and bodies. Again, that's not who I am. It's my stress levels. Everything is irritating and infuriating right now. And having to force myself to read through Walt Whitman is. not. helping. It's just one more irritating thing to do.
I keep reminding myself that soon, it'll all be over -- that these three weeks or so are just a blip on the radar in the grand scheme of things, and that they'll pass by quickly, that my comps will be taken and will be over quickly (good or bad) and I'll be done with this stressfulness, but right now it's not helping. Really not.
Daisy suggested that I should take my books and notes downstairs to the bedroom and study while in bed, at my leisure. I can't do that; I'd fall asleep. Every time. I'd never get anything done because I would always fall asleep. I'm always so constantly sleep-deprived that all of my studying has to be done while sitting up and with a pen and notebook in my hand to take notes; it's the only way I can stay on task. I've also had to turn off Facebook and Twitter, or I'll be constantly distracted by more fun things to read and reply to, things which will suck away time that I desperately need to use constructively. I have to force myself to stay on task, as miserable as that may be. And, believe me, it is miserable.
More later. Maybe. Who knows. It's not like I have time to write here anyway, not with that list of books I have above.
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